


Intoxicating

by glorifiedscapegoat



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-24 20:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22003636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorifiedscapegoat/pseuds/glorifiedscapegoat
Summary: “Not so fast," Nezumi smirks. "We’re nowhere near finished yet.”Or: Pointless Nezushi smut for New Year's!
Relationships: Nezumi/Shion (No. 6)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 159





	Intoxicating

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glittercracker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittercracker/gifts).



> Happy New Year's, everyone! Pointless smut time to kick off the New Year! Hopefully, it's enjoyable! It was a lot of fun to write, so I'm crossing my fingers that it's just as much fun to read.

Nezumi slides his hands up Shion’s shins, feeling the warm brush of flesh against his palms. Shion had just recently come from the shower—Nezumi hadn’t been able to resist poking his head around the curtain every few minutes, yelling "Boo!" and laughing at the way Shion jumped _every single time_ it happened. He hadn't been able to stop laughing as Shion yanked the curtain aside and whined _Nezumi, cut it out!_ at his retreating back.

Shion had been using Nezumi's body wash. He'd run out of his own a week ago and hadn’t gotten around to purchasing more. He smells faintly of spring flowers and the faintest hint of vanilla, and Nezumi thinks that’s his favorite part of it all. Shion’s _scent_. Or, more specifically, _his_ scent all over Shion's body.

“ _Nezumi_.”

There’s a plea in Shion’s voice, and Nezumi shudders at the sound of it. It makes him slow down, dragging his tongue in long swipes between Shion’s bare legs. His hands keep Shion’s knees spread apart. He can feel the tension in Shion’s muscles, coiled like a whip, trembling as Shion instinctively tries to close his legs the more attention Nezumi pays to him.

“Oh...Oh, _god_ …” Shion pants, arching off the bed.

Nezumi presses against him. He grips Shion’s calves and lifts Shion’s legs to rest over his shoulders. Shion hooks his knees there, heels digging in Nezumi’s lower back.

Nezumi slides his hands up Shion’s legs, along the dip in the back of his knees, coming to rest against the swell of his thighs. He hasn’t stopped lavishing attention to that sensitive place between Shion’s legs, torturous and slow and wonderful because it makes Shion _squirm_.

Nezumi could stay like this for hours—wrapped up in Shion, surrounded by the taste and scent of him. Feeling the tension trapped within Shion’s muscles and knowing that _he_ was the one to cause it.

His hands move slowly along Shion’s thighs. His thumbs press against the hard nub of Shion’s hip bones, massaging a careful line along the indent left by his plain cotton boxers, discarded somewhere on the floor. Nezumi doesn’t remember where he threw them. They’re probably hanging off a lampshade or thrown across the cover of one of Nezumi's hundreds of classics.

Nezumi rides the hitch of Shion’s body as he shudders. He lifts his head long enough to catch a quick peek at Shion’s expression. There’s a beautiful pink flush spreading across Shion's cheeks and down his bare chest. His scarlet eyes are closed and he bites down on his left wrist while his right-hand clutches the sheets.

Nezumi smirks and goes back down. He exhales, slow and long and torturous.

Shion arches and whines—and Nezumi presses his hips tight against the mattress because he needs pressure, and both of his hands are occupied.

He gives in to the temptation and swipes his tongue out again.

“ _Ngh!_ ” Shion’s head falls back. His lips part, breaths coming quick and hard, and Nezumi has to lift his head to watch. He _has_ to—it’s instinct more than anything.

Nezumi watches as Shion twists and presses his face into the crook of his elbow, hiding his face. His short white hair peeks out from the bend in his arm. Nezumi can’t see Shion’s face, but he hears his ragged breaths, feels them in the pit of his stomach.

“Enjoying yourself?” Sliding his thumbs along the edge of Shion’s hip bones, Nezumi traces his lips lightly over the sensitive skin. Shion squirms, and his unbuttoned shirt slips down and exposes his shoulder. Nezumi feels the artless writhe of Shion’s hips as he whimpers and twists his fingers into the bedsheets.

Nezumi huffs a laugh, and even that little bit of attention is enough to make Shion dig his heels into Nezumi's spine painfully hard.

“Not so fast," Nezumi smirks. "We’re nowhere near finished yet.”

Shion whines. He twists his fingers into the bedding and gasps out Nezumi's name. It’s intoxicating. Nezumi isn’t even trying to be a tease anymore. He drags in a jagged breath, swiping his tongue back out and along the sensitive parts of Shion’s nether regions.

Shion’s spine lifts off the bed, his back arched in a beautiful bow. His hands release the sheets and drop onto Nezumi’s head. He twists his fingers in the long, loose strands of Nezumi’s hair. Shion’s not even trying to be gentle, tugging hard enough for Nezumi to hiss. The pain sends bolts of lightning through every nerve ending in Nezumi's body.

Shion’s fingers press into Nezumi’s scalp and he tugs Nezumi’s hair again. He’s pulling Nezumi closer against his body, legs spread gloriously wide. Nezumi groans and grinds against the bed. He brushes his tongue against Shion again, and again, eliciting more of those intoxicating cries.

He loves doing this with Shion. He loves servicing him. Shoulders pressed against the curve of Shion’s knees, palms gripping his hips and wincing when Shion’s fingers tangle in his hair and tug too hard.

It feels _fantastic_.

Shion wanting him.

Shion gasping his name and whining, “More, more, _god_ , Nezumi, oh, don’t stop, feels _so good_.”

And Nezumi knows exactly how to get Shion there. He drags his tongue along the length between Shion’s legs, the tip of his tongue forming long strokes in a familiar pattern. He focuses on his trump card—writing his name in kanji, claiming Shion and marking him with his tongue.

He focuses on the subtle and not-so-subtle shifts of Shion’s hips. He rides the buck of them, tastes Shion as he whimpers and groans. Jesus fucking _Christ_ , the sounds he makes—Nezumi wrenches one of his hands away from Shion’s hips and drops it into his own boxers. He’s never been more grateful to only be wearing a tee shirt and boxer shorts. He continues to write his name between Shion’s legs and swipes the palm of his hand along his own. He’s barely touched himself this entire time and he’s already so. Fucking. _Close_.

The rose blush has traveled all the way down Shion’s body. Shion jerks and grinds, his hands slipping out of Nezumi’s hair. Nezumi curls his fingers against himself, the slick wetness at the head and the prickling sensation in his stomach warning him how close he is. He needs to end it. Shion’s close, too—it shows in the way his heels dig into Nezumi’s spine, the breathless way he whimpers and cries out Nezumi’s name, the quickening of those little tremors shuddering through his body.

Nezumi finishes writing his name with a flourish.

He pulls back and replaces his mouth with his hand because he _knows_ —and Shion throws his head back and gasps as he comes.

Shion’s intoxicating when he comes apart. His lips part on ragged breaths. His throat flashes in the dim bedroom light, and sweat glistens on his bare stomach and the slick flesh of his hips.

Shion collapses on the bed when he finishes riding out his orgasm. He shudders as Nezumi presses lazy kisses on his stomach, fingers seeking out his own release. Nezumi isn’t far behind—he comes with a grunt ten seconds later, urged by the beautiful sounds of Shion’s post-coital breathing.

Nezumi unhooks Shion’s legs from around his shoulders and lays them gently on the mattress. He grabs the box of wet wipes he keeps near the bed and swipes one over his hands. 

There’s a glass of water, too. Nezumi swishes his mouth out and spits into the little black trash can next to the bed. Shion stretches out on the mattress and makes room for him, fingers playing idly with the hem of his white button-down.

Nezumi discards the soiled wet wipes and then uses a fresh one to clean himself and Shion off. It's a quick ritual—one Nezumi has been on the receiving end of several times, much to his initial surprise—and Nezumi relishes in the gentle murmurs Shion makes at the attention Nezumi pays to him.

Once he's finished cleaning both of them up, Nezumi tosses the wet wipes aside, crawls onto the bed, and drops at Shion’s side.

Shion smiles, a sleepy haze hooding his crimson eyes. He’s always exhausted after he comes. Never longer than a single round—but Nezumi finds it almost endearing. His sleeping prince. He runs the tips of his fingers along the curve of Shion’s cheekbone, tucking his white hair behind his ear.

Before Shion, Nezumi was never affectionate after sex. He was a “blow and go” kind of guy. But Shion loves to cuddle after sex. He loves to trail kisses down Nezumi’s neck until he falls asleep, open-mouthed, against Nezumi’s collarbone. And Nezumi is surprised to find that he enjoys feeling Shion’s arms around his body. Loves to feel Shion’s tender lips on his too-warm skin and loves to hear Shion whisper “I love you”.

Shion tucks into the curve of Nezumi’s side and presses a lazy kiss to his jaw. “Do you want me to…”

“Maybe later,” Nezumi says. He’s normally good for a few rounds, but he isn’t in the mood to have Shion fall asleep while giving him a blowjob again. It was funny the first time. It probably won’t be the second.

“All right.” Shion kisses Nezumi’s neck and presses his nose against the divot between his collar. His bare chest rub against Nezumi’s bicep, skin warm and slick with sweat.

Nezumi cards his fingers through Shion’s hair until his breathing evens out. Shion’s asleep in moments, lips flush against Nezumi’s shoulder. Nezumi buries his nose in Shion’s hair and breathes in deep. Shion smells like floral soap, the faintest hint of vanilla, and sex.

Beautiful.

Absolutely fucking beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> For more awesome No.6 content, come hang out with me on tumblr: **https://glorifiedscapegoat.tumblr.com/** Here's wishing you all a wonderful New Year! I have a lot of things planned for 2020, and I hope you'll all enjoy them!


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